Dreams of a Dark God
by Lelldorin1
Summary: This is about Torak's Dream from the time Brand struck him down at Vo Mimbre to when he awakened in Cthol Mishrak to fight Garion. PG-13 because violence will be a little rough at times. I might later change it to PG, depending on how the story turns out.
1. Default Chapter

This is a story of Torak's dream during his long sleep after the duel with Brand at Vo Mimbre. Just to let you know, the only character that doesn't belong to me in this story is Torak. Also, I'm gonna start with this quote from Chapter 41 of Belgarath the Sorcerer, written by, as told by Belgarath, a poet named Davoul the Lame, then in the next chapter my own storyline will unfold.

"…and raised he up and pushed his arms even into the sky

and cried out again. And cried he out one last time as he

beheld the jewel which he had name Cthrag Yaska and

which had caused him to be smitten again, and then, as

a tree hewn away at the ground, the Dark God fell, and

the earth resounded with his fall."

I hope you'll enjoy this story!


	2. Chapter 1: Entrance to the Land of Dream...

                                                  **Entrance to the Land of Dreams**

    Darkness.

    It was everywhere.

    It filled his eyes and ears and nose and mouth.

    Darkness.

    Swirling through a void as infinite as it was nonexistent.

    The Dark God tried to scream, but there was no sound. His body seemed to change forms. He was contracting and expanding, back and forth, until he no longer even resembled a human figure. Always before, he was a God. He was feared by his people. He was capable of doing things that normal men dreamed about.

    Power. He had unspeakable power back on earth. Nothing ever stood in his way of getting what he wanted, save for only one power, the Necessity. Now there was more as powerful as that. Many, many more.

    He felt his entire ability of what men call sorcery being taken away from him in an instant. Slowly, his memory was erased. All knowledge, from the moment he was 'born' to the moment that that accursed Rivan Warder struck him down, was taken away from him. Soon enough, all he could remember was his name.

    Torak.

    He also felt himself becoming younger. He seemed to be reducing in age from many thousand years to one thousand. 500. One century. 50. 25. And finally, he became a young boy of about 8. He looked like a normal human. He was powerless. And he was still swirling in that seemingly endless void.

    And then, after what seemed like an eternity, he began to see strange illusions. Over there was a blade of grass. And look, some more popping up. Time seemed to be speeding up a few months, and he seemed to be approaching vast, empty grassland. But everything around was still that darkness, blacker than the darkest reaches of the universe. And then, slowly but surely, a light blue inched its way over the sky of black. Then a bright sun appeared in one corner. Some trees popped up. And yet he was still spinning, very slowly, through a vacuum toward this strange place.

    And then, almost in an instant, even though it looked like he was still several miles above the ground, he was suddenly hurled rather harshly against it. He landed with a dull thud on his back, feeling a very hard pain on his back.

    Pain.

    Even though nearly all of his memory was gone, he realized that since he felt pain, he was no longer in empty space, although that didn't help him conclude on where he was.

    Then he heard something, which was another good sign that he was no longer in empty space. The something he heard was whistling. Even though he was once a God and of incredible age, he was now powerless – and only eight years old, not to mention his memory was gone – so he was scared of this approaching sound.

    He lay there, very still, waiting for the whistle to come closer. In time, it did, and he saw a young girl, also about 8, approaching him. When she spotted him, she stopped whistling and kneeled down near him, as he was still on his back, and smiled. Them both being of a young age, his transformed mind perceived her as very beautiful and kind, and her smile made him feel worlds better. His mouth slowly creased into a smile as well.

    She giggled, then spoke to him, and her voice was rich with that tone of an aspiring singer. Torak rather liked that.

    "Hey there, silly," she said to him, "why are you layin' on your back on the ground like that? Get up!" She reached out a hand to help him stand up, which he graciously accepted. He dusted himself off, noticing as he did that that he was free of clothing from his trip through the void. He began to blush violently. The girl frowned. "What's wrong? Why is your cheeks gettin' all rosy?"

    Then he made his first attempt at speech, which worked fine. "Where are my clothes?"

    The girl shrugged. "Do we really need clothes? I think they're very restricting, you know. I only wear them 'cause my granny says so. If you want some, I'll bet she has some for you. Are you new here?" He nodded. "Ok," she went on, "I'll introduce myself then. My name is Myrria. Welcome to Taruka."

    Torak raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

    "Oh, I forgot, you're new here. Outsiders call this place the Dream World. Come on, let's go to my house so you can meet my granny!"

    And so it was that Torak, transformed from the Dark God to a powerless 8 year old boy with no memory of his former life, followed the girl Myrria to her house, which would begin him on an entirely new life for the next several centuries.

( The next chapters will be longer, but the first ones of my stories are always kinda short. )


End file.
